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She did
not look up; but her heart beat with a quicker motion, and her
breath was half-suspended.
"Mother!"
She lifted her bowed head, and met the soft, clear eyes of her
daughter looking calmly down into her own.
"Fanny, dear!" she said, in half-surprise, as she placed an arm
around her, and drew her closely to her side.
An open letter was in Fanny's hand, and she held it toward her
mother. There was a warmer hue upon her face, as she said,--
"It is from Mr. Lyon."
"Shall I read it?" inquired Mrs. Markland.
"I have brought it for you to read," was the daughter's answer.
The letter was brief:
"To MISS FANNY MARKLAND:
"As I am now writing to your father, I must fulfil a half promise,
made during my sojourn at Woodbine Lodge, to write to you also.
Pleasant days were those to me, and they will ever make a green spot
in my memory. What a little paradise enshrines you! Art, hand in
hand with Nature, have made a world of beauty for you to dwell in.
Yet, all is but a type of moral beauty--and its true enjoyment is
only for those whose souls are attuned to deeper harmonies.


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